“For you and all the world must know,
By it our place we keep.”
But scarcely had he spoke these words
When he was fast asleep.
And when he’d slept ten months or so,
He called him for a pen;
But long before it ready was
He’d sunk to sleep again.
Now goodman Stephen in his ear
In whispering accents said—
“Both pens and paper now, my Lord,
Are on your table laid.”
So quick he took the gray goose-quill,
And wrote a neat despatch;
Says he, “I think that that, at least,
Their Tory wiles will match.
“Just as my name, it may be read
Whichever way you like,
Or Whig or Tory, as may best
The reader’s fancy strike.
“So And me now Sir Francis Head,—
A learned knight is he,—
Successor to the brave Sir John
I vow that man shall be.”
Sir Francis came, but long declined
The proffered post to take,
Until convinced by Lord Glenelg
’Twas for Reform’s sake.
“Now take this book,” his Lordship said,
“And in it you may see
The many wrongs that do oppress
A people blest and free.
“And take you also this despatch,
And read it over well;
But to the people you need not
Its whole contents to tell.”
Sir Francis bowed, and off he came
In hurry to be here;
And rabble shout and rabble praise
Fell thick upon his ear.